Reisen
by BlondeJinx
Summary: Story about a man trying to find his way home. Under "Parodies and Spoofs" because some mannerisms were adopted from the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.


"Reisen"  
  
Chapter One  
  
BlondeJinx  
  
His head hurt. He rubbed his eyes again and massaged his temples. "What  
  
have I gotten myself into this time?" he thought.  
  
Kaptein looked around. He was lying outside, to be sure. The cool grass was damp with early morning dew. He sat up to get a better view.   
  
"What the..." he started. He was sitting in a ditch next to a highway. Though nearly desolate, a car would drive by every few minutes. He pulled out a rum bottle from inside his jacket and held it to his thin lips. Empty. He threw it away, disgusted. He got up and took a few swaggering, disoriented steps. This feeling was not new to him.   
  
He heard the familiar growl of a car far in the distance. He squinted into the early morning sun and saw that it was coming towards him. He waved his arms frantically, occasionally losing his balance and giving him the appearance of a bear recently shot with a tranquilizer gun. The 1995 black Honda civic slowed to a stop and opened its window.  
  
"Cun I haylp ya, sir?" the portly man with an unshaven face and a small Hooter's t-shirt asked. Kaptein silently thanked his aunt for making him learn English as a young child. He never had to use it before now.  
  
"Yes. I like to understand where I am." He knew his accent threw the man off, but tried to sound as American as he could.  
  
"Why, you're in Richmund, Virginiay. Pride of da south."   
  
"Richmond? Virginia? America? Nice one, buddy." Kaptein insulted himself. How could he have gotten here?  
  
"Uh, Thank you." He tried hard to remember the events of the past couple days. Is it even possible to get from Norway to America in the span of a night?  
  
The man offered him a ride into town, and he gladly accepted. Once they arrived, Kaptein jumped out, thanked the driver, and found the nearest bar.   
  
"I need a drink," he said to no one in particular. He pushed open the door and looked around. Empty, except for a drunk sleeping off his hangover and the bartender watching television in the back. He climbed on a bar stool and waited to be served. The bartender, annoyed from being pulled away from his early morning activities, mumbled something under his breath and asked this strange light haired man what he wanted.  
  
"Rum," was all Kaptein said. The man poured a light colored liquid into a glass and handed it to him before returning to the back room. Kaptein sipped his drink twice before downing the whole glass in a single gulp. He was talented like that. Rather than disturb the bartender again, he effortlessly jumped over the bar and poured another for himself.   
  
"Now, what is the last thing I remember?" he thought, saying a silent prayer to Munin. His mind wandered back to a moon less night, no more than two days ago.  
  
He heard the laughter even before he saw it. The fog was a thick gray blanket engulfing the bay. He pushed open the doors of his favorite tavern, putting his tan hands on his hips. His many days out with his ship, Sølvdrage, gave him his caramel colored skin, abnormal to most Norwegians. He breathed in the smell of dirt, sweat, sea, and drinks, his favorite kind. As he walked through to his normal table in the back, both people he knew and didn't know shouted his name and waved in greetings. He sat down and looked around. Jens, the bartender, immediately came over with his usual extra tall glass of rum. Kaptein looked around.   
  
The wooden paneled walls held moose and deer heads, as well as preserved fish and other sea life. The high ceiling left room for a balcony where more wooden tables and chairs stood. Waitresses bustled around, flirting with male customers and glaring at one another. The unsophisticated, small-town bar was a popular spot for the citizens of Bodø, Norway. Full of high spirits and heavy drinkers, it was a natural sanctuary for Kaptein.   
  
His closest friends spotted him almost immediately, and swaggered over.   
  
"Kaptein! Haven't seen you for a while. Guess you must have heard about Aksel being on the war path, yeh?" his friend Erik sputtered in his native Norwegian. Kaptein smiled, revealing his three gold teeth and lighting up his kohl-rimmed eyes.   
  
"Aksel, eh? Thought that mate would have given up by now. What's done is done. By the way, how is Dagny?" he winked. His friends all laughed, realized their clever friend's pun.   
  
Their conversation started to turn to political topics as the old friends caught up with one another. Kaptein told stories of his recent adventures as wide-eyed customers listened on. Suddenly, a pistol shot rang out, making everyone in the bar jump. A large man with short blonde hair and a furry blonde beard kicked open the doors, looking furious. Kaptein, the bravest and possibly the most reckless of the group, stood up and sashayed over to the man, swinging his hips and holding his fingers at odd angles.  
  
"Ah, Aksel, how nice of you to join us, yeh?" he said calmly, almost mocking the giant before him. Then, everything went black.  
  
"Do you want another drink? Hello? HELLO!"  
  
The bartender was almost screaming at him. Kaptein jolted back to reality and looked around, remembering where he was.   
  
"Uh, yeah." he nodded at the man before him. "I be back."  
  
He got up and dragged his feet to the bathroom. He turned on the water and cupped his hands under the silver faucet. He splashed some on his face and through his hair before studying himself in the mirror. His scrawny 5'7" frame was hunched forward. He had dark circles under his fiery blue, kohl outlined eyes. His long blonde hair was tangled and matted, and his goatee was scruffy and uncared for.   
  
"Uffda." he mumbled to himself before returning to his waiting glass of liquid Prozac.  
  
A/N: This is something I'm just sort of having fun with. Not exactly sure how it's going to turn out yet...but I think it will be good. I've got some great ideas for this story. I sort of used some of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow's mannerisms as inspiration, however, they look nothing alike. Feel free to e-mail me with suggestions or to tell me I suck and to never touch a keyboard again. Everything is welcome. ;-) 


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